A Pinch of Destiny, a Twist of Dispair
by eha1234
Summary: She longs to talk to him, he yearns to say hello. But they can't, they know they can't. Because he is the Wolf and she is Little Red Riding Hood. Based on 'The Wolf that Fell in Love with Little Red Riding Hood'. - One shot


Based on 'The Wolf that Fell in Love with Little Red Riding Hood' sung by Rin and Len Kagamine.

Disclaimer: I own nothing

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 **A Pinch of Destiny, a Twist of Despair**

The little girl in the bright red coat passes this forest path every day. Every time it is the same silhouette that first peaks his interest – the short cloak, the big hood, the wooden basked dangling off of her arm, the bright splatter of red against the relatively dull canopy of the woods.

Today is not difference. She walks with a skip in her pace and a smile on her lips, along the path through the forest littered with leaves. He has seen her so often now that he doesn't even need to look at her to know her sapphire blue eyes have paused for a second on a patch of bright flowers to her left. In summer they are beautiful – wildflowers bursting through the moss where the sunlight reaches the floor, little gems sparkling on a carpet of green. Even in autumn now, when they have started to wilt, they are still eye catching.

Apparently her destination is a cottage not far away, where her grandmother lives. There are shorter routes there, safer ones. Maybe she does not know. He would like to tell her, but he has never had the chance.

Once the red coat passes by, he lets out a soft sigh. It may have been his imagination, but he hears an identical sound from the girl in the red coat. Today is the same as any day. Although his little glance of her is his radiant moment in his daily existent, it is not enough. If only their eyes would meet.

Ever since he first saw her, a little crimson blur running down the path away from him, he has been filled with overbearing curiosity. You could say it was fate – for them to be on that same forest path on the same day, the right circumstances coming together for them to bump into each other. Overtime, as she returned day after day with the same coloured coat, that curiosity only grew.

What do people call it?

Love?

He yearns to talk to her; just to say 'hi'.

'Hello, Miss, how are you?'

'Hello. I'm fine, thank you.'

Yet all he can do is dream.

However hard he hopes, however hard he thinks and wonders about the possibilities, facts do not change. His claws and teeth will never be gone. The ending will never differ from its grizzly conclusion.

'Oh, why do I have to be?'

'Why do you have to be?'

The Wolf and Little Red Riding Hood

-o0o-

The black silhouette behind the same tree every day is what catches her eye. Although he seems confident in hiding, Little Red Riding Hood can clearly make out the two ears and a tail poking from behind the black bark. It never ceases make her smile.

Just in front of his tree, there is patch of flowers. Sometimes in summer she picks them for Grandmother. She knows she shouldn't really (in fact her mother has told her explicitly not to do so) but her Grandmother likes them. That, and it means she can take a proper glance at him without alerting him of her intentions. It's not like her mother checks to see if she is following her instructions. If she did, flowers would be the least of her worries.

She wants to call out, she wants to tell him to tuck his tail in, to find a better tree to hide behind but she can't. Her voice clogs in her throat. She walks past as though she has noticed nothing, a sigh escaping her lips as she does so. It is routine; today is no different.

Perhaps it is just wild hope making her imagine the identical sigh from behind her.

It has been a while now but she remembers their meeting quite clearly. The first time she had seen that black shadow, she had felt the forbidding presence of something big beginning, and, scared, she had run from that place.

Even so, the ache in her heart and the naïve curiosity meant that the next day, when she yet again had to deliver food to her Grandmother, she purposely chose the wrong route to see him. The day after that, and further ahead.

It wasn't what people called love.

Fate wouldn't allow that.

It didn't need words or touch or eye contact. Just the fact he was there was enough for her.

Then why did it hurt so much to drag her feet forward, away from him?

'Hello, Miss, is this yours?'

'Why, thank you.'

All she can do is hope.

However hard she cries, however hard she prays to God that He would change their circumstance, the facts do not change. His shadow is always an ominous black, her hood is always the same bright red. There is only one ending for the two of them.

'Oh, why do you have to be the Wolf?'

'Why do I have to be the Little Red Riding Hood.'

There is no answer.


End file.
